Superwoman
by PoppyandViolet
Summary: Santana Lopez.. the name that made you quiver with fear or stumble onto your knees with admiration. Now, after a year, a financial crisis and an inebriated night; her time as Superwoman might finally run out.   Rating because of Santana's language
1. Chapter 1

_**Superwoman**. _

_**Summary**:_**Santana Lopez.. the name that made you quiver with fear or stumble onto your knees with admiration. Now, after a year, a financial crisis and a lonely, inebriated night; has her time as Superwoman finally run out? (Rating because of Santana's language.)**

_**Disclaimer: **_**I don't own glee, or it's characters.**

_**AN:**_** This is something VERY different to my normal Karomel-esque fic.. **

**But I really hope you enjoy this one anyway! Also Los Angeles and Lima, Ohio are approximately ****1,921 miles** (or **3,092 kilometers) apart. I checked this, so it is accurate.******

******_Thanks for reading!_**

_**XxVi.**_

_-xx- **Santana POV **-xx-_

1,921 miles. That's how far away you are. I wonder if you're having fun being a Lima loser. A year ago we'd be joking about that, huh? It doesn't really say much now. Hell, you're probably doing better than me. I'm still stuck in this dingy Los Angeles nightclub. I don't know how _you'd _be the more successful of the two of us. I _always_ used to come first. Every time.

"Penn!" I yell over the pumping soundtrack. I shove my intoxicated co-worker with all the animosity I can bother to manage, "Get your drunk ass off my counter!"

"Oh, your counter?" He returns, blinking lazily at me as he lifts his head off the liquor-damaged oak. It could definitely use a polish. I'll probably be forced to perfect it myself later.  
"Yes my counter." I purse my lips, I'm not in the mood for his fatuity.

"Just relax, Sanny."

"Don't _fucking_ 'Sanny' me!"

"Sorry. Santana." He rolls his eyes, but there's a smirk on his face that makes me want to slap him.

"Don't apologize." I reply coldly and incredulously, "Just start serving the goddamn drinks."

"On it, sweetheart." Penn pulls a tray of multiple mixed cocktails onto his hand professionally. But the use of his nicknames takes away from any impression he could have made.

"You're lucky you clean up nice." I whisper and catch him send a wink in my direction as he retreats. I grab all the glasses I can balance without stumbling and hastily make my way through the smoky haze. I crinkle my nose at the heat in the room. I'm used to it, it's just never all that pleasant.

"A French 75 for you." I say congenially to a woman who I actually find distasteful and plastic. That's one of the negatives of being stuck in a dead-end job. Especially if rents on the line, long-hours and excruciating labor. I'd be stuck in the club for at least another four hours, and I was running clean up afterwards.. I barely acknowledge the woman when she passes me some cash. I try to smile jovially, but I'm sure it comes out as a snarl. I locate the other customers and serve them in a similar manner. I'm feeling too pissed off and listless to bother and please them tonight. Even if they, most probably, won't even realize if I'm being sincere or acerbic.

I edge slowly back to the counter. There are people yelling orders after me relentlessly and I scrawl them half-heartedly up my arm in permanent marker. I step up behind the counter to begin pouring drinks and notice another worker, Anya, prop herself up on the bar next to me.  
"Anything I can take?" She asks in her irritatingly sweet voice. She twirls her auburn shoulder length curls chewing on a pen. "Yeah." I murmur, "Can you take these down to that fugly couple in the leather that should be illegal?"  
She looks at me expectantly, "Sure thing". She jumps down onto ground level and proceeds to deliver the drinks.  
"Busy, huh?" Penn reappears beside me. He sweeps in to kiss my neck and I scoff.  
"Get off." I sigh, "Just because I slept with you doesn't mean you can touch me."

"Sorry." He replies, disheartened, but I don't feel the least bit guilty. He had offered to pay my bills after all.

"And, yes it's busy." I return; narrowing my eyes, "Can't get anything past you."

"You sure are bitchy tonight." He says, and presses a hand on my lips before I can react, "And I mean more then usual."

I slap his hand away, "And?"

"Nothing." He looks amused. I continue diligently mixing alcohols, and Penn watches me. "Shouldn't you be doing something?" I ask him bitterly.

"Anya's got it covered." He mumbles. I shrug, "Not my fault if we get our asses kicked when we close up."

"You need a drink." He says suddenly, thrusting a bottle in my direction. I push the bottle away. "They won't even be able to tell your drunk." He exclaims, "And if they can, they won't care."

"Please." I sigh; giving him a _look_. I notice him back off a bit, "As if _that_ bothers me. I'm just not in the mood."

"Santana Lopez.._not in the mood_?" He asks with a look of mock disbelief, "That sure is a bold statement."

"Go die, Penn."


	2. Chapter 2

**Superwoman**

**Disclaimer: I do not own glee or any associated characters etc.**

**-xx-**

Clean up. The only thing in the world that sucks just as bad as working here. When the club closes, one of my arms is covered in black ink. I make a mental note to bring a writing pad on my next shift. I push a broom along the floor's surface. It doesn't do much; I've always found sweeping completely pointless. I have to bend to scrape up the shards of shattered glass bottles anyway. I look up several times to check Penn's progress. He's meant to be re-sorting bottles behind the counter but each time he's been slung across the bench, drinking. Anya is singing along to our stereo as she cleans unidentifiable liquids off the ground. A few other co-workers I know on first-name basis, but don't care about, are present. But, as usual 'I still don't care about them.

I've never been much of a cleaner. The idea of _me_ bending over to scrub away at someone else's mess is humiliating. But when my boss enters, I know I'm choosing correctly when I contribute. My boss, Sid Rivers, is a strange man. He is mid-thirties but still bothers to slick his hair and dress like he belongs in this spiritless dump. He smiles, "How are we doing, kids?". He often refers to us as 'kids' or even '_his_ kids'. It may be true that we're all young adults, however what sickens me most is how much he makes it sound like a goddamn glee rehearsal. "Fine, Sid.", Some of us reply unenthusiastically and out of sync. But even a response makes the guy smile. Poor thing.

"I've got some news." He says slowly. I truthfully couldn't care less unless it results in some sort of rise, "And because we're all so enthusiastic I know that we're all going to power through this _slight_ dilemma like the cadets we are!" Hell, he's speaking to us like we're in kindergarten. This isn't going to be good. He continues, "And considering it's so slight, you guys won't even notice." He chuckles in a care-free manner with a wave of his hand. A few of us have stopped working completely to watch him foggily. "Out with it.", Anya utters bluntly. Sid expresses his _tenderness _again with another tepid grin. "Well, you see." He murmurs, "Our numbers have dropped about 35% in the last month. So your pay is getting halved." I freeze. _Halved! _He quickly adds over our appalled protests, "But don't be discouraged, kids. I'll see you all tomorrow at the same time!" How can he even say that cheerily?

Before I can react, Penn has thrown himself aggressively at Sid who attempts to drive him off. "Woah, calm yourself Pennley.", He said soothingly.

"Don't give me that." Penn stutters through clenched teeth, "How can you march in and say that? Even when you realize that means the end of most of us!". I feel almost sympathetic towards him. But I'd always believe Penn was better off then the rest of us. I don't think I was mistaken. "Just a mild dilemma." I hear Sid repeat dumbly. Another guy tears Penn off him and tosses him against the bar muttering, "You're drunk, dude."

I try to convince myself to think rationally, but rationality has never been my strongest point. And everything I almost contain boils up when Sid turns to slink back out the door. "Hey, pops!" I yell. He glances at me, pointing at himself as if to ask _who, me? _"Yeah." I announce, "That's un_fucking_reasonable." I ignore someone next to me who quietly whispers something about my vocabulary. "And, you know it." I continue.

"Sanny, honey, whether I know it or not has never been an argument." He says gently, but I'm shaking my head fierily, "Why did you hire us then? Why not drop a few of us off.." I stammer then direct a finger in a co-workers face, "Why not drop him off? I didn't even know he worked here."

"It doesn't really work like that.." Sid says meekly.

"This is ridiculous!" I remark. I'm so annoyed I feel like doing a lot more then yelling at my boss, "We can't.." I nod fiercely at Anya then correct, "We _won't _survive like this". Sid glances around the room. I know what he'll see. An aggravated brunette Latina, a restrained Penn and a bunch of screw-ups looking nervous on my behalf. Sid throws up his hands and noticeably edges towards the door, "There's nothing I can do." he claims before completely disappearing into the safety behind it's hinges.

"Hell!" I shriek, thundering after him. This time, Anya has restrained me. I try to pull her off, but she's surprisingly willing for a scrawny girl. I guess you'd have to be to work here. I finally drop my head in defeat, forcing myself to ease my breathing. All I can think of is how enraged I am. I can't pay the rent with my income now, how am I supposed to pay it halved? Penn comes up beside me, and Anya's grip is released. Penn shakes his head, incensed, "You know what we should do?" He inquires, and I can see something in his dark eyes that I almost dislike. "What?" I request expectantly. There's a silence, and Anya enters my view, her head of auburn curls bouncing with her movement. She blinks concernedly and Penn reacts, "Get the hell out of here. Leave our _dear friend _Sid resignation notices and trash this place." He adds violently, "And I mean trash it. Everything you can get a hold of.". I'm the first to respond, although there is a long hesitation after his bold suggestion. "I'm in." I respond sullenly. We both direct our gaze to Anya. She blushes at the attention but murmurs, "Me too."

"That's settled." Penn murmurs, and very suddenly reaches out and grabs any bottle of alcohol he can reach. He thrusts it onto the floor and I all but jump to stay out of it's path. "Be careful." I scold sarcastically, "In case you haven't realized, glass tends to cut people". Penn doesn't reply, but I hear Anya giggle clamorously as she knocks down a row of stools. I reach for a bottle and Penn raises an eyebrow. I clarify, "We'll need it if I'm going to ignore the fact that we're being filmed right now". He shrugs in acceptance as I unclasp the top and carelessly sip the contents.

"Now.." I declare pulling myself onto a table. I raise my arms and cry, "Who wants to smash the party lights?"

-x-

Less then an hour later we are all lying in the center of the dance floor. I struggle to remember what circumstances led to it, but all I know is that's where I am. Penn is at the door, trying to tell us to hurry up. But all I do is laugh airily, close my eyes and bury my head into someone's back. "He's right." I hear Anya, "Someone might call the cops..". I clamber to my feet giddily and stumble to the exit, Anya is following me when she suddenly spins, "Oh, we forgot to quit." She gasps, "Anyone got a pen?" I smile, "I'll do it.". I produce a crimson lipstick from my handbag which I proceed to paste across the walls in messy font. I hastily scrawl, '_Penn, San and others quit. Love, San.'_

Penn looks at me bewilderedly and utters, "That's all you could think of?". I shove him into the wall and slip out the door. And before I know it, we're outside my rental home and everyone but Anya and Penn have departed. I resist asking my companions when they left. I blink, and I begin to make my way up the stairs. I search my pockets my key and when I can't find it, I lift a pot-plant to locate my spare. But the space under the philodendron plant is unsettlingly blank. I shiver, "What the hell?". I stand up fully and spare a glance at my puzzled visitors. I look back at the entrance, and see a small gold key sitting awkwardly in the handle. "Why would..?" I whisper, then reach for a small piece of paper I observe on the top step. I unfold it quickly and look over it. When I see it's contents the words almost blur in front of me. "Oh, my God." I breathe.

_..Eviction Notice.._

_..Landlord has terminated tenancy.._

_..Furniture and residence has hereby been repossessed.._

"Eviction?" I squeak. Penn takes the letter of me and reads it, "Why didn't you pay your rent, San?"

"I didn't get any bills!" I argue desperately, fumbling the handle open. I step inside and cry out. I run into every room of the house. Everything is gone, every room is completely bare. The only objects that have been left are my king-sized mattress with an 'unredeemable' sign plastered on it's surface and two Thunderclaps. Yearbooks from high school. "Are you kidding me?" I insist to no one in particular. I open the book weakly, then thrust it back onto the mattress. I haven't looked at them since graduation. Not since I...

Anya puts an arm around my shoulder, the notice is in her hands. I know she's read it and seek comfort in her hug. I never thought I'd need anything from the red-head. Penn is lingering in the doorway, "At least you have a bed." He mutters darkly, "It cost more then your rent anyway."  
"Sleep is important." I counter irritatedly. Anya quietens me. I see Penn walk further into the room, the dim moonlight that is filtering through the blinds reflects on his face. "We know Santana." He says bitterly, "Sleeping is very important to you. Especially with anyone who offers the rent.". Anya inhales rigidly, and allows me to blindly press forward and slap him.

"Well?" He demands, "Didn't you realize it?"  
"Realize what?" I almost scream. I've never hated him more then I despise him now.

"Oh, well you wouldn't. You were far too _busy _to realize anything." He laughs and my stomach twists sinisterly, "Busy with the rest of California on the same freaking mattress. You wouldn't notice someone casually lift your plant, locate the subtly-hidden key and dispose of all the bills and warnings."

"Wait.." I say stupidly, "You..?"  
"Yes, me!" He exclaims neurotically. His tone is enhanced by his intoxication, "Not that you'd notice. I wanted you out! Now you're homeless, wanted and unemployed! Hardly a sacrifice for me."

I shiver, "Why would you do this to me."

He bends his face towards me, "Because you're _trash_. You played with my feelings, and I won't have that. You can't sleep with someone then treat me the way you treated me everyday."  
"_You paid me!" _I shriek, "It meant nothing!"

"Well, good luck to you now." He shakes his head, and looks me up and down before he leaves. I slam the door behind him. Anya and I are enclosed in a house that I don't even own. I sob, and she strokes my hair. I sub-consciously lug my mattress out onto the road, pausing to break down in my drunken state. Anya collects the year books and helps me whenever I stop. When the padded case of springs is sprawled beside the pavement, I drop onto it. Anya just nods. I realize how much I miss you. How much I want you next to me right now and as my chest heaves, I notice that I've never felt more alone.


End file.
